The Darkness of Light
by Nightfire77
Summary: Beaten, battered, close to offlining, Starflight has finally reached Earth. The virus plaguing her mind only advances, what remains of her very sanity continues to falter; while she battles the monsters her in head...and those now on Earth. What does she do, when forced to face her past life, horrors, and love, while attempting to remain the bot she wants to be?
1. Chapter 1

The sky was a shadow. The loss of stars leaving an emptiness...a none fulfilled void composed of pitch black. Filled with nothing. No sound. No light. Just...nothing. The lack of sound, the lack of light, was disturbing. An aura of loss and despair hung heavily around the air. This stillness was not one of harmony, but one of sadness, and hopelessness. It was so quiet, so still, the movement of the black clouds over the night sky not even disturbing this imbalance of emptiness, instead only adding to the shield of unease coursing through the veins of the wind. So still. So quiet. Then the imbalance was broken by the screeching of wings cutting through the night like deadly blades.

A massive gape in the blackness appeared from above, the clouds instantaneously parting at contact with the flying, or falling, object. It was as big as the night was dark, the front, which was pointed almost awkwardly downwards, curved sinisterly into an incomplete circle, each side then twisted to a sharp point around the glowing orb at its center. That lead into sharpened metal armor, curved into a twisted formation, then sending itself into two massive yet elegantly curved, equally sinister wings, plated with sideline hints of a royal purple. A powerful existence was radiating from its stunning frame. But something else was disturbing this object. This form was much smaller, holding an almost delicate form. It stood out immensely attached to the silver and purple plane, being mostly of black color, hinted with blues and greens. It's body was clearly feminine. She had two feet, the tips curved into intricate limbs, larger then her legs as the black came upward as an armored shin and knee plate, two lean and graceful legs a shining silver as they lead into a beautiful curved torso, equally as silver as the parts of her legs underneath her armor. Her arms were lean and elegant as her other limbs, the shining black of her main armor would have concealed her from the night, were she not attached to this plane. She herself also held to beautiful wings upon her back, though not the dark color as the main frame on her body, the coloring was a swirl of reds, greens, and blues, twirling through the sharp wings like a raging fire. The same colors came down from her wing line, curling around the edges of her black frame, the sharpened points of her chest plate ended in this vibrant color, and the line of flame came down her metallic stomach, where it continued to the armor protecting her delicate and smooth feminine fingers. The flame once more began from the bottom of her feet, were it traveled up her black legs, thinning and swirling till it seemed to disappear into the shadow of her remaining leg armor. Her eyes glowed brighter than anything else amongst her physical form, beautiful and lively, they curved into alluring optics, their centers encircled with glowing rings of aquamarine and a bright sea green, in a stunning hypnotic way. But around her left eye, striking from the top of her face-plates to a curve, was a clear scar, disrupting the thin, rectangular lines coming from her optics to her mouth. Her mouth was curved in a fierce scowl, her optics glowing with an emotion deeper then wrath, deeper then pleasure. Her thin fingers curled underneath the screaming metal of her opponents alternative mode, her feet placed strategically alongside his frame as they dropped. His engines had ceased, but their roaring purr had already been replaced by the shrieking wind. She grit her teeth, as the ground came closer, and faster.

It appeared larger, the immense black cloud of the floor filling up her sight. Her armor tensed, her fingers closed tighter as her knees pressed against his hot frame. The corners of her lips carved into a tiny, knowing smirk, her eyes narrowed in pleasure, welcoming the upcoming crash.

Six feet. They missed the ground by a mere six feet. The intricate plane curved upwards in a fierce and sudden movement, its wing tips dangerously close to the rubble. It flipped backward, and in the middle of the motion she let go, flying back, her arms out at her sides with her legs spread. She landed with a striking grace, after herself flipping once more. She slid back by around an inch, in a kneeling position, her right knee bent and her left leg out behind her, with one arm raised in the air, and the other bent on her right knee. The expression remained on her face as she watched almost...hungrily. The jet then transformed.

His wings gave the appearance that they were shortening; when in true actuality they were turning backwards, sliding from the metal joints to allow him to finish the process. They once again turned into their own directions, slinking back into the sockets obviously created to hold their physical existence. This form continued the process of turning, the back of what used to be his jet mode releasing a soft whir of pressure as it opened, what was clearly legs protruding from the part, tingling at the familiarity of exposure. The armor lining the belly of the jet slid upward while its countering brethren slid in the opposite direction, different plates heading left or right depending on the location they were meant to have accessible reach to. The front of his mode altered itself as the plates of metal around it moved, turning into a half circle of motion, allowing the plating to move onto the area, almost as though bending to fit the frame now clearly being built. Along his body, the heavy sounds of the immediate transformation were brought by a rythmatic beauty of change. From the exposed inside of the jet, a luminous light began to spread throughout the frame, molding with the darkness of his appearance. The curved head of the jet flipped back-ward, unhinging into two separate pieces as they folded into one another, sliding gracefully toward the side opposite of his back. Two more armored pieces, holding much of a resemblance to muscular anatomy, causing beautiful and strikingly sharp pieces of metal to slid from the ends of his arms, dashingly dangerous in their clear power. Smooth and cut to the point of sharpness, their government alone was enough to take a hold the eyes of those whom the vision graces. As his carved shoulder blades now returned to their rightful place above his head, longer, cuneated parts appeared from the ends of his legs. Several more clicks and whirs ensued as a large and curving pelvis turned and glided with the acuminated tips of yet another multiple cornered framework. With only smaller adjustments as he began his descent once more to the ground, the process nearly complete after his time seemingly defying gravity, he arched his masculine body.

His feet pointed downwards as his long arms outstretched beside his frame, fingers pointed outward to grasp the thin ribbons of wind curling at their carved tips. His left leg made contact with the ground first, his right following quickly to a point only several inches behind the appendage with the first touch. His arms slowly lowered to his sides, his shoulder rolling with a satisfying crack. It was beautiful, it was stunning, it was purely breath-taking. Now, in the same position as she, standing mere yards from her, was a being standing at least to a point of thirty-five feet tall. Strong and imposing, radiating power and strength, with a large muscular chest, arms and legs to match, and curved feet. His face was almost shark-like, with large glowing red eyes, molten lava in the frozen form of intimidating rubies. His helm was as equally sharp and beautiful as the rest of him, pointed into a larger part of his strong jaw line, the edges curving around his face, intriguing brows furrowed in anger. His razor sharp fingers lay curled into an infuriated fist, his cruel mouth gritted, lips pulled back to reveal shining fangs, the black marking around his face moving with his expression.

He tilted his head, and his eyes widened in surprise. Then his brows furrowed again, though not with anger, with instigation. His lips rearranged into an amused smile, as a low and fearsome chuckle rose deep into his throat. His eyes closed, her smile faded, her eyes filling with an empty resentment as he stood. His mouth opened as his chuckle turned into a frightening laugh. She stood as well, but being so small compared to him, she would have been easily hidden by his shadow. His eyes opened, burning through the night, burning through her cool, determined gaze. Then there was silence. Just silence. His laugh stopped, but smile remained. Her glare hung heavily, her mouth unmoving and cold as her slim fingers clenched tighter then even her teeth. Then he spoke, the humor in his husky, powerful voice remaining. "Of all the days, you happen to appear now." It was more of an intimidating growl then a voice. She remained silent. "What? No response? Well, Nightfire, you never were a chatty one...upon occasion" Her mouth clearly tensed at those words, and his brow raised questionably. "Do you still go by Nightfire? Or did you resort back to your original namesake, Starflight?"."My name is not of importance, Megatron." Her voice was as cool as the night, intelligent, but holding some obvious resentment. A soft chuckle played at his lips once more. "Ah, I see how it is." He paused, before continuing. "Though I must admit, I am very surprised at your coming. Hadn't I so mercifully extinguished your spark, so many cycles ago?"."I estimate that both of us have experienced pleasant surprises of late". He nodded, with a small tilt of his head, raising his hand as his fingers opened in expressive movements. "Is that, sarcasm? Then again...I am sure that you have indeed experienced...surprises...as well". Her fingers unfolded, and then folded again in the anxious motion. "You speak the truth, Megatron, but I did not think we had time to discuss our past, when we have scores to settle." "That did not end so well for you last time, if I recall." "Which is exactly why I have such a reason, for my upcoming actions". They stared for a moment, eyes locked in a fierce battle of shear mentality . Megatron's voice broke their stare, his smirk widening as his claws itched to feel her energon spill from her veins, his tone imposing and startling in its humor, "Alright then".

He made the first move. She had anticipated this, but he had also anticipated her anticipation, which she knew to be a familiar strategy for him. He ran forward, not charged, ran. He was graceful, he was swift, he was the complete opposite of what most would think a being of his size would be. She would not be caught off guard, though, and the moment she became in reach of him, she ducked. As she swiftly dodged a blow from his fist, quickly turning around in a slick movement, her leg swung around in return. She felt his sharp digits curl around her pede as he caught her foot. Her optics sharpened, as did his. Then she spun her other leg around, striking him square in the jaw as she held herself in the air only using support from his grip. His surprise lasted not as long as she would have hoped; actually, it hardly came into existence at all. The sickening metal clang caused by the contact of her foot and his face was met by him twisting her pede, grabbing her arm in the middle of the air, and sending his knee upwards towards her spin while his face rapidly recovered from her strike. Her optics widened, and by some miracle of the Allspark she managed to twist sharply, just enough to send his blow not into her central spine, but into her left arm socket. Using her immense strength of endurance, she somehow managed to hold back the gasp of pain building in her throat.

_"What makes you so special? From what I see...you are nothing more than a simple drone with dreams far too large for your meager processor". He whispered into her audio sensors, his voice a purring combination of a growl and a hiss. Her bright optics stared into his, so strikingly close, they were. She was uncomfortable, she was anxious...she was something else she could not place. Never before had she come into such close physical contact with the leader of the Decepticons, and as his claw-like digits wrapped around her entire neck, his other hand engulfed around her waist, onto her back where he held her one remaining arm in an obvious display of dominance, her spark swelled with the unfamiliar feeling. Was it fear? No. Even now, as her arm was locked together painfully with his fingers, and her legs dangling from air as he held her above the ground, while she hung dented...broken...she was not afraid. Then what was this...this feeling of such excruciating simultaneous warmth and cold she was not accustom to? His smirk spread, not even inches from her own cold expression. Her face-plates held a determined glance, her tightened lips curling into a weak smirk to return the favor of his. A small, snort of chuckle released itself from his mouth, his hot breath heavy on her lips while he did so. Her helm was small compared to almost any Cybertronian, but next to Megatron...she was an insect beside a feline. "Y-You do n-not scare...m-me". She said softly, her voice as weak and cracked as the current state of her armor, not at all the intimidating growl she had wished for. His optics closed as his mouth opened, his body gently shaking with his new-found humor, her legs making a small swinging motion as he laughed. It stopped short, and he returned his helm forward, moving hers even closer to his eagerly awaiting jaws. His mouth now gently brushed against her audio sensors as he raised her neck, sending electric shocks of pain through her frame along with the tingling sensation caused by his words."Oh but I should..." His grip tightened, causing her to force-ably hold back a wince. "It would be the only wise decision of your existence...to fear me, that is. Because the things that I have done..." His voice lowered into an even softer whisper, "The things I will do...are enough to make you beg and plead for mercy with your last dying breath...when I am finished with your miserable life"._


	2. Chapter 2

**Apologies for not making a quick "Author's note" for the first chapter. I had completely and totally forgotten, haha. Well, I just want to wish all you loveley readers a wonderful time enjoying my brain spawn piece of scrap stories. Enjoy, as Megatron and Starflight further their twisted little reuinion. Not much of a reunion, at that...jeez, Megatron needs to take some classes on throwing Welcoming Committees. He's about as friendly as a panther with a cactus stick in its behind...**

Her widened optics flashed brighter while the old memory consumed her processor, a flickered and frighteningly sudden recollection which exited as it entered. _Good times….._

Her grimace transformed into a daring grin as she stared directly upwards into the taunting eyes of her enemy, while she ignored the pain rapidly flowing through her nerves. His expression was virtually blank, but his optics revealed his consistent and co-existing humor and fury as they burned into her own. They remained locked, frozen, in the awkwardly odd position of battle. His scowling face-plates broke into a small, resentful smile. Meanwhile, she continued to avert her mental and physical attention from the additional pain as her other leg snapped forward in a quick offense.

Unfortunately, he had also expected this. But her intention was not to injure him with the blow, yet to instead provide the environment needed to cause the leader of the Decepticons to loosen his grip upon her aching limbs. Of course, her intention arose to reality as her move proved highly successful on her part. His helm tilted backwards with a growl while her pede struck the air where Megatron's head once resided, his servos slightly slipping at the new, lively movement engulfing her frame. The other leg of the femme smoothly pulled itself upward as well, joining its double straight up into the air. Megatron quickly grasped her other arm with his new-found free servo. Starflight kicked forward with her entire storage of strength. The pain which blossomed within her upper body was near excruciating, as the pressure and leverage caused by her recent thrust forward extended its effect in both negative and positive reinforcement. But his grip was as tight as it was cold. She gave a small wince at the popping sound coming from one of her joints within her left appendage. He then proceeded to swing her in the opposite direction of that in which she had made a valiant attempt for. _Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT! _ She knew that by resisting the pull of his grip that her own frame could basically be torn in two by the unimaginably powerful force of Megatron's shear physical strength and the current gravity of this planet. So, she released herself. His grip fell as his optics narrowed coolly. Her frame was thrown mid-air. She turned within this shortened flight, tossing herself in a poorly formed back-flip. The femme landed to a skidded halt, her servo catching the ground with a metallic screech as the remainder of her body was taken by the magnetic pull downwards. Her optics widened when her other servo came as well, being that the moment it touched the ground the joint which had popped earlier gave a disgusting crack. As she landed, sparks once more exploding from her injury, her frame collided to the Earth with a sudden and harrowing formation. A small sound escaped her metal lips, her frame bending into a laying position. She looked up, greeted by the sight of her opponent towering over her. And the entire time….the grin never left her face-plates.

"It seems your journey has had its affect on you. You're not up to your…usual standards, in battle". She began pulling herself to a painful crouch, her arm hanging limply at her side while she was forced to use only its twin for support. She smirked at Megatron's words. "You would be incredibly surprised to learn what a stasis pod can do to your systems after so long". _I knew I was…._ He returned the expression, slowly kneeling beside her. The pain continued to eat at her processor. Not just the pain of the blow. But the familiar pain…the pain which was always there. It had grown stronger while she had been temporarily shut down. It was not near excruciating, it WAS excruciating. It took her entire being to not fall forward, clutching her helm in her servos while she shouted her gasps and desires of redemption, of liberation from these thoughts and these demons._ I really am not up to my usual standards._ She forced herself to remain still, completely motionless as he crouched near her. "Not much surprises me, now days".

She did not look at him, facing the area directly behind his frame. She was not avoiding his gaze from fear, instead she simply did not trust herself to look into those optics she had stared into for so long...so long before. "You seemed very surprised when I "ambushed" you". He snorted a distasteful sound of humor. "You happened to be a surprise, but do not allow yourself to succumb to the temptation that victory provides just yet. You made a foolish mistake. You were already weak, and yet you still thought yourself capable of a full-fledged attack. That trait is highly mistaken in a situation which could so easily end in the extinguishment of your spark". He raised his arm, his cannon reaching a point so close to her, she could feel the heat of its blast preparing to fire. She turned her gaze directly upwards, being met by his hardened and almost frightening allurement. _You could not be more wrong, Megatron. Your arrogance shall be the end of you one day. One of your biggest mistakes shall be not eliminating THAT trait, which SHALL cause a situation to end it the extinguishment of not my, but YOUR spark. _"Spare me the lecture. I have my own reasons for my actions," she growled, "reasons of which are no concern to you at the moment".

He seemed to ignore her words, his optic ridges furrowing as he leaned closer. She felt his imposing presence besides her painfully stressed frame, but she refused to provide that satisfaction to him, the satisfaction of knowing. The small femme refused to loosen her threatening glare, her fiery glow. "Give me one reason to not kill you where you lay". She chuckled. "Oh please. I am far too useful for you to kill right now. We both are FULLY aware of that". His scowl turned into a revealing and hungry grin."Valid point. How deliciously true, at that". As his scowl left, hers came into creation. "What are you waiting for, then"?, she inquired. He raised an optic ridge. "You seem almost eager to go". "Only eager to survive. There is a difference". He nodded. "Oh, indeed there is. But do not expect to survive long". At that, he lowered his weapon, the sound of energon evolving into a shot ceasing as he did to. He raised a curved claw to the side of his helm, his optics never leaving hers as he spoke into his com-link. "Soundwave, prepare a transport immediately".


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there! Well, here is Chapter three...Four will be here soon!**

_It was a beautiful sound. A harmonized ringing captivating the very air it traveled upon. The singing tune of metal to metal, a brilliant clang of strength to strength. She loved the sound. In fact, she savored not only ever moment of this "musical harmony", but also the very activity in which caused it. The feeling of his cold face-plates against the knuckles of her servo was simply exquisite. _

_The blow she had just delivered was certainly one to be envied by onlookers. Not only was it swift enough to catch the Decepticon leader off guard (a feat which astounded those in view), but also strong enough to enforce a pretty damn acceptable amount of damage at that. Yes, she was basically beaten to a point in which a pile of scrap metal would be more pleasing to the optic. Yes, the fact that she could still provide a fairly decent punch in this state was astonishing. Yes….things did not necessarily go according to her original (and quite brilliant) plan. But she was fueled by rage. Fueled by what many may go as far to label as arrogance. Fueled by the humiliation she just had to endure. Fueled by what remained of her honor and dignity. She was fully aware of the danger these emotions provided, the possibility of nothing more than an act of recklessness. Yet what had she to lose? Ah, she was disappointed in herself for succumbing to such emotional fuel. But also exhilarated by the energy, the passion, they allowed her to experience. It was beautiful. _

_The facial expression of surprise which grasped Megatron was almost hilarious. Oh, who was she kidding? It WAS hilarious! It couldn't be more clear that he experienced that particular sensation. Though she could not blame him, in perfect honesty. After all, he had just tossed aside her broken frame to the ground. How was he to expect that she would use her remaining strength to pull herself up with a silent growl of vengeance, then provide one last and shockingly effective attack by throwing herself forward, her fist extended? So as he was taken aback (literally), energon already leaking from the rapidly developing injury, she came to a somehow graceful and clattering decent to the floor. Megatron then brought his massive body to a sudden halt, seeming to defy gravity as he straightened his frame with remarkable posture. He raised a large servo to his face, extending a single claw to touch the area of impact. She brought herself to a sitting position, ignoring her excessive amounts of leaking energon whilst she did so. A smirk found its way to her cracked face-plates, harmonizing with her fiercely intense optics in a deadly state of valiantly bold mentality. The words which he had whispered once more ran through her processor, though it was the cold phrase which had slipped from his lips as he discarded her body which rang the loudest. "Your attempts are nothing more than a humor. You'll never amount to anything", he had hissed. Well, maybe he was correct. Maybe Megatron's point was one of complete logic. Yet….she felt she could never live with herself had she NOT made that so called "humored" attempt._

_ His optics once more found hers. She could not help but be almost captivated by his presence. He held himself to strongly, so independently, so passionately. Despite what had just happened, the femme found herself admiring the fierce warrior whom she had just battled. There was a chilling silence from the surrounding drones and soldiers. Her anger met his, a combination creating a complete aura of fury. Megatron's smile is what broke the air of rage. "Take this soldier to the med bay". She was obviously not the only one experiencing shock as these words. He was not going to offline her? After what she had done? His gaze continued to lock with hers, even as he had spoken to the other beings around them. Seeing her clear confusion, he added, "It would be foolish to deny your capability for potential. I require as many fighters in possession of this quality as possible. Logic dictates that to waste such a soldier would be the act OF a fool, so I shall not grace you with you death…..yet". She gave only a small nod in response as the great mech turned, waving his servo dismissively. "See to it that the medics make her fully functional"? With that, he small femme felt cold servos harshly grasp her arms in a motion to pull her up. She had done it. She had done it….and was still online._

All she saw was light. Nothing but light, a swirling vortex of colorful energy engulfing her within its terrifying beauty. The extreme waves of varying colors of blue, green, and silver, only held abilities to match the vibrancy of her own, wide optics. Her processor felt the dawning pressure of pain, to intensity much higher than the constant feeling taking over her very mind every single moment of her equally powerful endurance. She knew this to be an effect of the inner malfunction, but that did not stop the wild thoughts of possibility from raging in her very spark. They had refused her, they had scolded her, even mocked her...but she had not stopped. Maybe the mistake of activating battle to early would be the cause of her demise, or maybe it would allow the opportunity she so desperately craved for so long. The pain now exploded throughout her entire small frame, consuming her body in the terrible yet familiar sensation. She felt her mental self thrown forward at an alarming speed while her frame was pushed between the worlds themselves. The instantaneous change was expected, and the next thing she saw was complete blackness as her helm came into physical contact with a solid, metal surface.

"I hate ground-bridges". Starflight softly growled as she blinked, her vision instantly adjusting to the change of scenery. She felt his servos silently grab her frame as to bring her up, but she quickly did it herself in a nearly violent attempt to not be touched. The cuffs around her wrists cut into her like blades, but it was only the fact that she was unable to PUNCH anything which upset her. _All part of the plan, all part of the plan….._"I strongly recommend", he yanked back her arms, sending a fierce pain into her body, "That you not do that again". "And I strongly recommend that you consider hiring an interior decorator….your throne room is far too shabby. I'm getting a strong, tyrannically evil vibe, but I personally think it needs some more natural colo"-, her words were cut off by a hit to her helm. She did not release a single sound displaying her obvious pain and discomfort. The ground bridge closed behind them with a pop as she was lead forward. He said nothing. Her plan was now fully in session.


End file.
